


we're lookin' for something dumb to do.

by 200percent_inlove



Category: K-pop, Red Velvet (K-pop Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Crack, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Friendship/Love, Love, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Romantic Comedy, Romantic Fluff, Seriously LOL you will get cavities, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, WENSEOK IS BACK!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/200percent_inlove/pseuds/200percent_inlove
Summary: “So uh, I’m no scholar but from what I can conclude, you want to fake a wedding proposal.”“Yes.”“To get free food.”“Yes.”“May I ask,why?”Or, the four times where Ho-Seok and Wendy execute fake-proposals, and the one time where he doesn’t.
Relationships: Jung Hoseok | J-Hope/Son Seungwan | Wendy, Wenseok
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	we're lookin' for something dumb to do.

You know, there are just certain things that you _don’t_ expect to hear on a Sunday morning when you’re half-asleep with a capsule of minty Listerine sloshing around in your mouth, and your idol-turned-seasoned producer of a boyfriend is standing next to you, using the top of your head as an armrest while brushing his pearly-white teeth –

“Wen-Wen. How would you feel if I proposed to you?”

And _that_ – with Jung Ho-Seok, apropos of abso- _fucking_ -lutely nothing while his lips were covered in a frothy, white foam, dropping the one sentence that carries enough weight to encompass an entire lifetime so nonchalantly as if it were no big deal – is _most_ definitely one of them.

* * *

Once I recover from nearly choking myself to death on the mouthwash and Ho-Seok _finally_ calms down from screaming bloody murder in the background with promises that he’ll never drop such dramatic bombs again under such dangerous circumstances and that he’ll piggyback me to the local poison center if I needed it, I seat him down at the kitchen table and bring him a cup of water to soothe him.

To be very honest, it should _really_ be the other way around. _I_ was the one who had a near-death experience, after all, but pale, clammy Ho-Seok looks near ready to keel over and the mug in his hand is _still_ trembling. I’ll cut him some slack; I love this man too much to lose him to a very preventable heart attack at the mere age of thirty-two.

But that doesn’t mean he’s completely off the hook from my endless barrage of questions.

“I appreciate your generous offer of providing your muscle power to save my life, Seok, and I’m not doubting that you can make it sixteen blocks with a hundred something pounds on your back,” I begin with a chuckle, squeezing his shoulder as a means of offering comfort. “But first things first, some answers for clarification would be nice.”

“What do you mean, Wen-Wen? Can’t a guy just, y’know, wake up one morning and decide to randomly ask you a generic question to you in an uh – “ He glances at my sleepwear, and then down at his for a moment before asking with a weak finish, “Faded Redmare concert t-shirt and an old Map of the Soul hoodie?”

Now, while that was my idea of a perfect, lowkey proposal (sans the unappealing attire), it surely _wasn’t_ and _wouldn’t_ be Ho-Seok’s. Having been with him for half a decade, I know him well enough by now to state with a hundred percent confidence that he’s not an ‘in-the-heat-of-the-moment’ kind of guy. He needs precise, elaborate plans. And he was missing the very quote-unquote, ‘soul and essence of a wedding proposal’ (AKA, the diamond-encrusted ring). He’s always wanted fancy, and I’m willing to bet all my signed albums that he would never settle for anything less. Simple and modest aren’t terms that exist in his very being – and I mean this _very literally_. Just take a look at his past airport fashions.

Plus, the way his voice wavered so faintly – clearly guilty of something –just proves my point even further that there must be an ulterior motive to his sudden declaration to take our relationship to the next level.

“Hashtag, everybody _knows_ that you wouldn’t propose like that without being completely over-the-top,” I laugh. He groans, burying his head as far as the table would allow (which wasn’t very much). “You can’t fool me. You are the walking embodiment of _‘light-snow-falling-soft-piano-playing-fancy-tuxedo-carrying-roses-on-one-knee’_. So? What was that just now?” I prop myself next to him, resting my cheek onto my open palm. “Practice for the future? Lyrics to one of TXT’s new comeback songs?”

And then, half-jokingly – because admittedly, hearing an indirect confession that he had been nursing some thoughts of marrying me was doing some strange, peculiar things to my heart – I add, “A prank?”

“I was uh – “ He scratches the back of his head, a grimace pulling at the corners of his mouth as he explains, “Reading this article, you see.”

“You – uh,” I smirk, tapping two fingers against his temple. “ _Read_?”

Flailing his arms around, Ho-Seok whines, pursing his lower lip into an overdramatic pout, “ ** _SEUNG-HWAN-AH!_** ”

“Okay, I kid, I kid!”

“And like, I don’t want you to be _mad_ at me – “

“Seok, you’re being ridiculous. Now, _why_ in the world would I be mad?”

And just when I thought he could sink no lower: the only thing I can see now are the beads of sweat hiding underneath his fringe as he busily swipes his finger across his phone screen. “Because you’re so dang kind, I know for a fact that you would _refuse_ to pull off a stunt like this.” Without saying another word, he pushes his mobile towards me and, in typical Jung Ho-Seok fashion, covers his face with his hands. He fans out his fingers slightly, peeking through the slivered gaps, watching intently for my reaction.

“And, and, and,” he adds quietly as I skim through the text. “ _Please_ don’t say that there’s something wrong with me.”

I only have one thing to say to him after reading the bolded title at the top of the article.

“So uh, I’m no erudite scholar but from what I can conclude, you want to _fake_ a wedding proposal.”

He nods, shirking away slightly from the disbelief colouring the tone of my voice. “Yes.”

“To get free food.”

He nods again. And with all seriousness in the world that nearly forces a loud, amused splutter out of my lungs once again, he states wholeheartedly, “Yes.”

Of all activities that we could do to waste time - go on Gong Cha dates, record a song or two, see our ex-members and catch up over high tea and scones, or even (forgive my lack of tact) have sex - he truly thought that this was the next best thing.

“May I ask, _why_?”

“I mean, a better question would be: why _not_?”

Hmm. That's a fair point. An _excellent_ point, actually. One that, despite what my holy, pure and untainted shoulder angel is telling me, the devilish temptation of free bubbly and decadent lava cakes is luring me into potentially committing a tragic sin that would fall completely below my morals.

But you know what? You only live once.

And so, without even giving my shoulder angel another second of attention, I slam my palm against the glass and declare with unperturbed enthusiasm, “Jung Ho-Seok, do you even **_know_** me?! There’s free food involved. You don’t need to ask me twice.”

* * *

Now, in _theory_ , it shouldn't be that difficult of a task to execute a wedding proposal - especially if it's fake.

We watched plenty of videos online - Ho-Seok shed tears through a huge chunk of them, though, talking nonsensical gibberish about the beauty of wedding dresses, lace veils, and flowers best suited for chapel weddings ("Seok, we're playing pretend, _remember_?") - taking notes from the Most Viewed clips on how to behave in a public setting without putting on a gigantic spectacle. We read all the necessary WikiHow articles (which were a huge waste of time, because all it taught us was the complete opposite of what to actually do). We scoured through the Yelp reviews to pinpoint which restaurants were best suited for date nights, provided top-class service to their patrons, and totally went all out on the works at the end of a presumably heartfelt moment - so long as we had the money for it. Ho-Seok even went out of his way to get an 'inexpensive ring' off that sketchy James Allen website that he hid from my sights when I went to pick up our mail (Because according to my ever extravagant boyfriend, "You need to be _genuinely_ surprised, Wendy!"). And heck, we even _texted_ our past stylists for fashion advice on what one would wear to a wedding proposal.

Trust me. We're _that_ committed. With a capital 'C'. With old-fitting tuxedos and solid black numbers to match that made our waiter - a strikingly handsome young man who would've given some of the new SM Rookies a run for their money - gasp.

Ho-Seok whispered, "Is he surprised because he recognizes us old-timers? Or is it because we're a good-lookin' couple?"

To which I replied once we sat down, tucked away from the main stage and next to an open window that overlooked the glimmering Seoul cityscape: "Both, Seok. It's _both_." 

But see, in _practice_ , though - it's not exactly the easiest thing to pull off when you're subconsciously aware of what's to come. I'll be honest: I'm not the best when it comes to keeping secrets. I can probably pull off a convincing poker-face on a good day, courtesy of the masterful ~~puppeteering~~ media training provided by SM Entertainment, but it's the body language that betrays everything.

And that's why, when our meal was said and done with, with Ho-Seok extending his compliments to the chef for a delectable job on the foie gras and beef wellington, my tipsy mind growing dizzily hazy and excited from alcoholic intoxication, and our dirty plates removed promptly for the pivotal moment to come, I'm unable to brace myself. 

Or, put it this way: I _try_ to. With a smile set on my face that _I_ thought was perfectly suitable for an upcoming proposal.

Ho-Seok, though, shares other sentiments: he gives my shin a good kick underneath the table, murmuring through a tight-lipped smile, "Hwan. My favourite part of you is your smile, but tone it down a notch, will ya? Everybody sitting within a five-meter radius can tell that you're expecting something to happen. We aren't going to get our free dessert if you're mimicking the clown from It!" 

And I swear, I have never tried harder in my entire life - well, aside from the time when I was asked to belt out that high-note just before the first chorus in Psycho. I maintained my composure, sitting with rapt attention when the waiter returns to our table with a beautifully-crafted chocolate orb sliced in two halves, adorned with tiny pieces of edible gold. A delicate sponge cake, cut into the most perfect square I have ever seen, was placed within the dome. And to top it all off, sitting, cushioned softly against the smooth, velvety layers of chiffon cream and the sugary pastry was - 

A two-carat, six-pronged diamond ring, perched upon a glimmering rose-gold band. It looked - too stunning to be fake. Like, is this for real? Is this actually sitting, three inches away from my face that I'm sure resembled nothing else but a gaping goldfish?

Okay. Okay. _Okay._ I inhale deeply, pressing a palm against my chest. Be _still_ , my heart. 

(Nope. Nevermind. It's not responding. I'm pretty sure the entire restaurant can hear it pumping thunderously against my chest.)

Well, one thing's for sure: Ho-Seok completely knocked it out of the park with the ring - and I'm sure my expression reflected this, too.

As the remaining patrons fall silent, watching the spectacle unfold before their very eyes, Ho-Seok clears his throat. With a quick adjustment to his tie, he stands to his feet for a brief second - only to kneel in front of me, folding his large hands over mine. The erratic tempo returns as he gazes into my eyes, and despite the dim, effervescent glow of candlelight illuminating our table, I can still see a warming abyss, reflecting at me. If I stare any longer, I might as well have just melted into a puddle of gush and goo right here. 

Look - it's not easy when you're getting proposed to by the notorious Jung Ho-Seok. A girl can't help it sometimes! 

"Seung-Hwan- _ah_."

But then, I'm suddenly knocked down several pegs back to the cold, harsh terrain that is reality when he calls out my name, and all lingering thoughts of the beautiful ring dissipate like vapour. The way it slips off his tongue is sweet, and if it were anybody else _but_ me, I'm sure they would swoon. But it's _too_ sweet. Borderline nauseating, especially when it's paired up with that lousy attempt of a smolder that he's trying to emulate from Song Joong Ki's role of Yoo Shi-Jin. And this begs the question of when, and _how_ did he manage to find the time to practice all these incredibly sappy and dramatic theatrics? Which movie was he stealing from _this_ time? Was he taking notes from Ryan Reynolds and his role in The Proposal with Sandra Bullock? Was this what he meant as a 'surprise' when I asked him what his speech was going to be like?

(Or even worse: has he been re-watching We Got Married Season 3 without me knowing?!) 

Either way, it doesn't suit him. It _really_ doesn't. I'm clamping down hard onto the tip of my tongue to stay serious. 

And needless to say, I'm fighting a losing battle when he opens his mouth once again, feigning nervousness with exaggerated heavy breaths and twitchy eyebrows. I have half the heart to tell him off and retort, "Ho-Seok, your lungs are working _just_ fine" but I keep them shut.

"I'm saying this today," he announces, brazenly proud. "Because today is just about right." Damnit, I knew I should've asked SM to give me some acting lessons when I had the chance. My role as Poppy in Trolls isn't enough to pull this off. 

Somewhere in the background, I hear a hard-hitting slap, combined with a vicious hiss of, "Why couldn't you do that for **_me_**?!"

I attempt to ignore it, concentrating hard on the words that Ho-Seok was murmuring to me. "I'm saying this because you're shining tonight."

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the compliment, and while I know his words _are_ supposed to evoke a romantic mood, I'm just not buying it anymore. Every cheesy line that he's delivering sounds oddly familiar. _Where_ did I hear this before?

"I'm saying this - " He tucks a stray piece of hair behind my ear. A gesture that, while I would generally nuzzle into, it leaves my insides clenching painfully because I'm near ready to die of laughter. "Because you're my first love."

And all of a sudden, it clicks. I can sense the realization smacking me right in the face as Ho-Seok - or should I say, _Gong Yoo Number 2_? - unperturbed to what was happening, concludes softly, "So, on this day that's just about right - "

The question comes out. Earnest, burning with desire and passion. " _Will you be my bride_?"

_Oh, my God._

But instead of saying the expectant three-lettered answer that everybody is literally sitting on pins and needles to hear, I'm sorry to say that I end up becoming a complete disappointment: I make an obnoxiously strange noise that sounded as if a flamingo and a hyena crossbred to have a noisy baby, and throw my head back as an uncontrollable fit took complete control over my body, leaving me dry-heaving, gasping for oxygen and sending spit flying everywhere within a two-meter radius all at the same time.

A beautiful scene to take in, if you will.

And our poor, poor waiter - standing a good foot away, recoiling at the amount of quote-unquote 'Dirty Water' flying out of my mouth - questions shrilly, "So, ma'am, i-is that...a yes?"   
  
  


* * *

We didn't just end up getting the complimentary dessert and a ten percent discount off our bill - 

"Hey, are you mad?" I croon, slightly inebriated as I stagger ungracefully down the street towards our vehicle, wounding my arms tightly around Ho-Seok's middle as a supportive crutch. "Come on. I agreed at the end of it all. Isn't that enough?"

We also received a lot - trust me, it was a _lot_ more than what we're accustomed to - of stony-faced stares when we leave the restaurant, and it wasn't because they recognized us as once-famous public figures.

"That was supposed to be romantic. I thought I _nailed_ it."

And if it isn't already obvious, Ho-Seok's not a happy camper for many reasons - partially from displeasure at witnessing my raucous, unladylike display ("Wendy- _yah_ , you were supposed to cry!"), partially from the amount of time required to calm down and actually say yes ("I _did_ cry, Seok!" "The last time I checked, they were _not_ happy tears, Wendy! And our waiter could totally tell!") and well, _mostly_ from of self-disappointment. Why was he so crestfallen about this though? I wasn't too sure. What my tipsy self _did_ know, though, was that I should probably cease the teasing, or else I'm at risk of sleeping in a queen-sized bed alone tonight. 

"I mean, you did a lot of other aspects justice! The food was great, the atmosphere was more than perfect," I point out, cuddling into his chest. He makes a noncommital voice, soft and near inaudible against our feet crunching against the gravel pavement, but he's not pushing me away. That's a great sign. "It's just that - you know, the next time you do it, don't plagiarize monologue from Korean dramas that you watched me binge twenty times!"

"And that's exactly _why_ I wanted to use that line on you!" He presses grumpily. "Can you blame me for wanting to live out a K-Drama moment for the one that I love?"

To be very honest, dating Jung Ho-Seok _is_ the epitome of living out a Korean romantic drama, but I don't think telling him that would do much to remedy the situation. Rather, I cling tighter against him, cooing, "Okay, yes, arguable but Ho-Seok, I love _you_ more." His lips seem to quirk ever so slightly, and I continue, "Not Gong Yoo. So, don't be mad."

And for a prideful man like Ho-Seok, reassurance is - more often than not - the best form of medication. He heaves a sigh, defeatedly so, and finally slings his arm around me. "And how can I ever stay angry at you?"

"If it helps you sleep tonight," I say, holding my hand high into the air to give the stunning jewel a closer examination. "The ring _really_ is spectacular. Totally knocked the wind out of me." 

"Aha, the ring sucker-punched you right in the gut, huh?"

"I'm a girl. Liking shiny things is found within our DNA." Understandably, most women may have preferred something from a more renowned, fancier place like Tiffany's & Co. But personally, the longer that I'm looking at it, the more I find that it suits me: modest and unpretentious. Just right. Ho-Seok may miss the mark for many things, but this was definitely one that he hit right on target tonight. "I love how it doesn't aim to stand out. A lot of the recent designs are way too flashy, bordering on plain gaudy."

"I'm surprised that you would be satisfied with something off James Allen," he comments. "Don't all young women want that tiny blue box?" 

"Counter-argument: I'm not like _every_ girl!"

"Right, right," Ho-Seok agrees at last, his laugh expelling from his lungs in loud, cheerful puffs. He presses a chaste kiss to my cheek before pulling the car door open. "Only you would ever be crazy enough to put up with my shenanigans." 

And the longer that I'm looking at it, the more that I actually _don't_ want to take the ring off. I'll inevitably have to give it back to him in preparations for our next ruse, but for now, I quite like where it sits: comfortably so, upon my ring finger and perfectly molded around the circumference of my digit, fitted just for me. 

* * *

Ho-Seok let me choose the restaurant for our second pseudo-proposal. And I, a certified lover of bar food and a bottle of nice wine, picked The Griffin Bar. 

"We've never been! The interior's ambiance looks incredibly romantic, too, plus," I added as he pulled the laptop computer onto his knees to give the menu a good read. He lets out a long, low-toned whistle as he browses through the prices. Not that _that's_ much of a problem for either of us. "It's listed in worldsbestbars.com." 

"Wow, Hwan. That's an incredibly reputable source you're quoting from," he comments with a light laugh. "But are you _sure_ you aren't going just because of the nice rooftop view?" 

Well, he caught me there, but him being his joyful, carefree self, he didn't seem to mind since it also meant that he could spam his Instagram with scenic photographs that would definitely make Jimin and Seulgi jealous that they didn't come up with this idea first. And he didn't seem perturbed in the slightest when I offhandedly drop the suggestion of having me be the proposer instead.

"I mean, it's not every day that I would get the chance to propose to my boyfriend." I shrug. "I wanna experience it, too, so let me give it a try!" 

The best part of Ho-Seok? It's not the fact that he has a heart made of pure gold that would've made the Lucky Charms leprechaun seethe, or his gracefully-aging idol looks that he's wearing out beautifully, even a few years after BTS has disbanded and he's no longer making consistent visits to his dermatologist. And while I adored him for his infectious positivity that hasn't diminished since his debut days, I cherished him even more for his open-mindedness and his appreciation for new experiences. In this day and age, it's often quite rare that you meet people who are open to things outside the norm. I consider myself very fortunate enough to have found both a friend and a boyfriend who was one of those rare outliers. 

So, Ho-Seok chuckles, pinching my cheek as he encourages with a competitive glint to his honey-brown eyes, "Go ahead. I'm looking forward to seeing you woo me. Show me what you got, girlfriend."

And because I'm Wendy freaking Son Seung-Hwan, there's no doubt that I won't put a hundred and ten percent into his challenge - and I'm equally confident that I will leave his eyes bloodshot and his heart a ravaged, emotional mess by the end of the night.

* * *

It's on a Wednesday - a few days before our second pseudo-proposal - that I went out of my way to a jewellers' in the ritzy, expensive neighbourhood of _Chungdam-Dong_ to find a proper engagement ring for Ho-Seok. 

"Hmm. I _still_ don't know." I was debating between two propped out on the glass display before me: the first, a sterling-silver band that reminded me of so many rings that Ho-Seok has hoarded throughout the years (and frankly, doesn't wear anymore, sitting in a glass cabinet to collect dust); the second, a simple band made of titanium and platinum with the option for engraving that I'm sure he would be floored to receive. I look to my left, where a sighing Kim Ye-Rim sits, looking completely bored out of her mind. "Rim- _ah_? What do you think?" 

She sucks in a deep breath, taking no more than two seconds to examine the rings before looking squarely into my eyes, groaning inwardly, "You guys are totally _nuts_." 

Sitting at twenty-seven years old with more than enough life experience under her belt, she should know that this isn't the right time to be sassy - but she _still_ chooses to be as blunt and savage as ever. No wonder she's my favourite munchkin.

"We are a beautiful pair of nuts," I comment under my breath, inspecting the second option with a magnifying glass. "Thank you _very_ much." 

"Oh, _unni_ , ew!" With a repulsive wince, she grumbles, looking near ready to wrench her hair out her scalp, "You two are absolutely revolting!"

"Let me hazard a guess. Is Jung-Kookie being stupid again?"

The mere mention of her betrothed's name is more than enough to pacify her rage. "...Yes."

 _I knew it._ "Annnnnd he isn't picking up the hint that you want him to put a ring on it."

"As Beyonce- _unni_ sings," Ye-Rim drawls. I never knew a person could sound exasperated, embarrassed, and peeved all at once - but it's _Ye-Rim_ we're talking about, after all. And Ye-Rim never ceases to surprise me with her endless talents, like pulling metaphorical insults out of nowhere. " _Yes_."

"And," I conclude triumphantly. "You're half-tempted to do it yourself, just to get it over with." 

She falls silent for a moment, and I continue my thorough inspection when she suddenly mutters dangerously, "He is one oblivious, dumb _duck_." Oof. The amount of venom and malice coating her words is enough to put a rattlesnake out of business. "Like, how does he _not_ pick up on social cues?"

"Okay, back up. What hints have you been dropping, exactly?"

"...Well, I put The Proposal on Netflix. Then, I made him watch Leap Year, The Ugly Truth, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days _and_ 27 Dresses all in succession. And you know what sucked? He still didn't get it! To make matters worse, all he did was laugh at the comedic bits, saying that he liked The Ugly Truth the best and that Katherine Heigl's a great actress and that he hopes to meet Gerard Butler. Like - _what_?! What is _that_?!"

She's on the verge of having a meltdown. Ready to combust any minute now. I can sense it. 3, 2, 1 -

"And I'm sure that any _person_ with a sane brain," she snaps, pounding a furious fist against the glass counter. "Can understand the subliminal messaging underneath it all!"

 _Everybody, but Jeon Jung-Kook, as it seems_. Too stunned to speak, I mutter with a shake of my head, "...Wow."

"Right?!" She retorts brusquely with a dramatic eye-roll to accompany her vexation. "Like I said, dumb _duck_! Jeon Jung-Kook is a **_dumb duck_**! But at least ducks, underneath all those feathers, are cute! Jeon Jung-Kook, though, is _not_!" 

"T-then again, I wouldn't go to such means - "

"Whatever! In the meantime, the second one is better! Go with _that_!"

Kim Ye-Rim is a very terrifying human being. But as I said, she's my favourite for a _very_ good reason.

* * *

Despite the fact that Ho-Seok and I had officially left the Korean entertainment industry to do more work behind-the-scenes - him as a producer and dance teacher for prospective Big Hit trainees; me as a vocal coach - that didn't necessarily mean that I was going to cut out singing from my life for good. It was one of the few things that gave me the utmost pleasure and it was a skill that I could confidently say I was somewhat competent in. I ended up dabbling in a few OST tracks that were quite well-received on the charts, partook in some collaborations with my past labelmates, released some covers on Soundcloud and onto my personal Instagram -

And serenaded Ho-Seok on a regular basis. 

It's no secret that Ho-Seok is a certified ReveLuv. He has our lightstick, which he christened Wanda after me (oh, to have inspired the name of an inanimate object - Ho-Seok really knows the wiles and ways of moving my heart). He knows all of our songs and choreography by heart (apparently, Power Up and Red Flavour were part of his Most Played list on Spotify). He helped stream our music videos when he wasn't busy. And not surprisingly, he biased me. Of course, it might be tempting to say 'Well, _that's_ obvious'. He is my boyfriend, after all - supporting his girlfriend is technically second nature. But in actuality, he designated me as his favourite member long before we started dating. That caught me off guard when he confessed, because wouldn't he have preferred someone like Seulgi, who's a much more adept, skillful dancer, or even Soo-Youngie, who people called a walking vitamin?

"Well, yes, they _are_ very talented and pretty. But you know what? So are you. You smile all the time on stage like you're having the time of your life, and it's very enjoyable to watch. Kinda like looking at the sun!"

Admittedly, I would've said the same for him, too.

Ho-Seok also didn't just appreciate watching me move on stage: he loved listening to me sing too. Whether it was in a cringeworthy song like Happiness, where I was often screaming out my infamous " _Shine on me_!" in agony, or in the sultry, seductive Bad Boy where I brought out the power of my low register to harmonize with the other members, he never failed to comment that my voice was a therapeutic mechanism for him. According to him, I sounded just like a Disney princess: a dainty, graceful member of royalty on the outside, with a hidden talent underneath the pretty exterior.

Let me tell you: getting compared to someone like Cinderella or Aurora really boosted my ego for a few days after that.

And another thing, too: Ho-Seok had a tendency to listen to our B-sides a lot more in comparison to the title tracks. I've caught him red-handed, humming unconsciously to Moonlight Melody and Kingdom Come one night. When I asked him why, he simply shrugged and said, "It's not that Psycho or RBB weren't good; there's just this whimsical beauty that comes with listening to the other tracks. Plus, I feel like you get to shine a lot more and showcase your versatility when you have such a vast array of genres that you got to explore during your time with Red Velvet. You nail ballads. You smacked the _shit_ out of the rap in Taste. And you got to collaborate with John Legend- _hyung!_ Such experimentalism! What _can't_ you do?"

Exaggerations aside (and I'm just going to dismiss him calling John Legend ' _hyung_ ', because oh my God), Ho-Seok truly knows how to make me feel appreciated and loved.

And that's also why I wanted to propose to him in the most spectacular way. Not in the way of wanting to one-up him, of course, but because there's only one surefire way that would definitely render him tearful and speechless. Plus, with him being my number one fanboy, he deserves the best fan service.

* * *

"I cannot believe you managed to get the entire restaurant all to yourself!" Ho-Seok exclaims, ruffling my hair ecstatically as our waiter guides us to our table on the night of. "How'd you pull _that_ stunt off?!"

"Come on, Ho-Seok. Who do you think you're talking to?" 

Okay, so yes: I _did_ have to pull some strings and use my connections as a former SM girl group member - courtesy of Joo-Hyun- _unni -_ to reserve the entire space, but you know what? I promised myself that I would go above and beyond, and it's more than worthwhile to see Ho-Seok's anticipating eyes light up at my efforts. I'd like to think I'm doing an alright job, too: he willfully ate through our appetizers - personally selected by yours truly - and cleared his main course in no time at all. We laughed. We drank. We made small talk about this and that. And by the end of our few courses, Ho-Seok's already grinning from ear to ear. I haven't even proposed yet, and he's already so satisfied. So far, so good. 

But as everybody knows, this is as far as the restaurant can go in terms of making this the most memorable pseudo-proposal known to existence. The rest will be up to me.

Ho-Seok's playing his part as the aloof and oblivious significant other fairly well (way better than my first attempt), watching me intently as I clear my throat in preparation for my big display. And out of the corner of my eye, I see our waiter and the chefs peeking at us nosily from the open kitchen. Under normal circumstances, I would've preferred to say this under more privacy, but I had just the right amount of liquid courage to quash the nerves away. 

I take in a deep breath, remembering all the bits and pieces of advice I read up on from r/AskReddit, and say, "Seok- _ah_. We've been friends for ten years and dated for almost half of that. I don't say this often enough, but I just want to take tonight to tell you that I appreciate you so, so much more than words can ever say." I can tell his reaction to my speech is genuine, because already, he's turning misty-eyed and he's doing that thing where he's biting his lower lip to stop himself from whimpering. If he's already growing emotional over a few sentences, then how is he going to behave once I start _singing_? Maybe it's time to signal to the waiter to get a box of tissues ready, just in case.

"You've always put up with me and my nonsense. You've always loved me for who I am," I continue gently. "And truthfully, I don't know how I would've made it this far in life without you."

(The one who I'm assuming is the head chef is using his wooden spoon to whack his sous chef in the chest, whispering excitedly, "D'you hear that?!")

"And while I can go on forever and forever about every little action, I don't think listing everything does you justice. So I hope that, with me singing you this song, it'll be able to convey my message to you." 

I make my way to the raised podium and set myself comfortably onto the stool. Through the muted darkness, I can see Ho-Seok, gaping and shocked as the mellifluous piano chords drift throughout the dining hall lazily in conjunction with the quiet murmur of violins. He never saw me singing him his favourite B-side now, did he? The percussion drops to kick off the slow, lethargic start of the song and I raise my microphone to my mouth. "I hear the sea, closer to my ears today for some reason - "

With the single spotlight surrounding me in a warm, dreamy glow, I almost feel as if I've stepped back in time, reliving those glorious days where I used to wear flashy costumes, learn complex dances and sing for crowds of hundreds and thousands of cheering people. "The clouds have risen, and the air is just humid enough - " 

It's quite a contrast, comparing then to now, because tonight, there's only me and nobody else. 

"A memory like a growing shadow, I hear the sea."

And tonight, I'm holding the microphone for one person only.

* * *

Now, tears were, inevitably, expected.

"Th-that was absolutely beautiful!"

I just didn't expect tears to come from virtually _every single person_ who was present - Ho-Seok, the moustached chefs, the waiter, and the gruff-looking, tattooed bartender included. And when the song does come to its poignant finale and I'm stepping off the stage to get down on one knee (thank God I wore trousers tonight), my weepy boyfriend comes barreling towards me with his arms outstretched, wrapping them around my frame to lift me several inches into the air. "Yes! The answer's yes! I accept, **_I accept_**!"

Using the last bits of oxygen found in my lungs, I screech breathlessly, "Ho-Seok! I haven't even _asked_ yet!"

"N-no words are needed! That was perfect! Tremendous! Spectacular! **Astounding**!" He's dropping random English everywhere - only my boyfriend, everyone. "This is my fiancee! That's right!" Ho-Seok announces proudly to the quietly applauding group, his cheeks stained pale-pink and his eyes slightly puffy. "And she proposed to **_me_**! **Me**! Of all people!"

Leave it to Ho-Seok to always make a mountain out of a molehill, especially for something so silly. 

When we leave the restaurant that evening with a thirty-percent discount, two extra glasses of Pinot Noir and a dessert platter ("No, no, this is really on the house; your performance was _priceless_!"), Ho-Seok's literally skipping down the sidewalk, whistling in glee and looking as if he had won the lottery jackpot. I don't think it actually has anything to do with our incentives, though, so I bravely ask, "Now, what's gotten you in such a good mood?"

"Why wouldn't I be?! You did so well! And seriously, Hwan, if you proposed to me like that, I wouldn't hesitate at all." Resting a hand against his chest, he sighs, beaming. "I finally have a taste of what it would feel like to be the proposee instead. And I can't believe women don't do this more often! It's god-damned _awesome_! It should be normalized for women to pop the question; takes the pressure off us guys to be the ones to ask!"

"Okay, but wouldn't you have wanted to let me finish up? I even got you a ring, and - " 

Freezing in place, his eyes suddenly narrow as I dig deep into my pocket. "Wait, _don't tell me_ \- " 

"What kind of proposal would that be if I didn't even have one for you? Here, look! It didn't come cheap, either!" I pop the box open, and - 

"WENDY SON. **_WHY_**?! WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?!"

 _Annnnd_ he's crying again, squatting down to his knees and covering his face with his hands while blubbering something incoherent about how I'm the best and how unworthy he is.

(He's _so_ wrong. It should be the other way around, really.)

* * *

Two weeks later, we're embarking on our third act. Ho-Seok wholeheartedly believed that his second try - AKA, our third time - would work out smoothly, because according to that famous idiom, third time's the charm.

Let me just preface my narration by saying, it most definitely was _not_. 

Now, it isn't related to the food, because the Wagyu beef melted in my mouth like hot butter when I put a slice into my mouth. As expected of a Michelin-starred restaurant, the portions were generously served and the chefs personally left the comfort of the kitchen to inquire about our meals, too, so hospitality wasn't lacking in the slightest. And it wasn't anything to do with the interior design, because the moment we got seated, Ho-Seok and I both agreed that we felt like we were being whisked away to an enormous castle ballroom: twinkling glass chandeliers, candles galore, fresh potted plants and - as an added bonus - a professional pianist taking the center stage, who was more than willing to play requests with an added gratuity. All the integral components to a proposal combined in a single restaurant: seriously, the timing couldn't be more perfect.

And that's when the night goes downhill. 

Just when Ho-Seok's about to drop down into the trademark pose for that climatic finish and a speech that (I'm praying to all of the heavenly deities that exist) he _didn't_ steal from Kim Eun-Sook or some other renowned scriptwriter - 

Hearty applause and whoops ring out throughout the dimly-lit restaurant as a waitress and a waiter bellow out from the corner of the dining hall, "Congratulations to our lovely couple of the night! We wish you all the best for the future!"

Now, on a regular day, I wouldn't have minded at all. We were only putting on a delightful charade, for the sanctity of our stomachs. If anything, the pair who actually had solidified plans of getting married deserved all of the limelight, and Ho-Seok and I would've been more than happy to drop by their table to wish them a happy marriage and that they last long.

The problem was, the "lovely couple" were two people that we recognized and knew very, very well. 

"Thank you so much for your kind words! We'll be happy!"

"Especially with cheesecake!" 

_Too_ well, if you ask me.

Swiveling around in my chair, I immediately squint my eyes to get a better view of the glowing "bride-to-be". Yes, I'm using air quotes here - no, not I'm being salty, but because this is coming from the cranky _maknae_ who complained viciously for a good half-hour just a few weeks ago about how _we_ were completely out of our minds. Yet, here _she_ is - wearing something from Joo-Hyun- _unni_ 's closet, what the **_hell_**?! How did she manage to convince our strict ex-leader into partaking in her foolishness?! - showing her infamous devil's grin with her boyfriend in tow. "I can't believe this!" 

"Not cool, man," Ho-Seok snarls through gritted teeth, dusting lint off his kneecaps. "I even wore my expensive velvet suit for tonight. How _dare_ they!"

If there's one thing that I absolutely won't stand for, it's hypocrisy. Especially from Kim Ye-Rim, because Kim Ye-Rim is a well-known hypocrite and needed to be told off from time to time. So, we weren't just angry. Oh, no. We were damn _livid_ , and I'm sure our expressions showed it because when Ye-Rim finally cranes her head over towards our direction, her triumphant grin is automatically wiped from her face. Jung-Kook, on the other hand, pivots in his seat and if I wasn't mistaken, his lips - smeared with cream cheese and graham cracker crumbs from the cheesecake that _I_ would've been devouring - were mouthing something among the terrifying lines of, "Oh. **_Fuck_**."

"Oh, fuck" is right. And once we make it over to their table, the younger man - who never bodes well under pressuring social situations and was able to smell our fury from at least two miles away - instantly holds his arms up in surrender.

"Look. You _can't_ get mad at us!"

" _Yah_! Why are you acting so scared?! Be brave!" Ye-Rim seethes, thwacking her hand towards his forearm with a hard-hitting smack. "And anyway!" Flicking her hair in our direction, she argues, "It's not wrong! I'm just following by example!"

Flabbergasted, Ho-Seok shrieks, "Still, this _isn't_ exemplary behaviour that you younglings should be partaking in!"

"We _aren't_ young!" Ye-Rim snaps hotly. 

"And you can't baby us over what we can and cannot do!" Jung-Kook announces, audaciously confident all of a sudden.

"That's right!" His feisty girlfriend encourages, nearly smashing her empty plate with her palm. "Tell 'em!"

"And I _will_! I am a hot-blooded, proud twenty-nine-year-old who can do whatever I please with my girlfriend!" 

"And if I can't experience the real thing," Ye-Rim screeches, clearly without a filter anymore as she unleashes everything that she's kept bottled up inside. "Then I might as well just settle for this!"

"W-wait. Hold on one second." Jung-Kook slowly turns away from us, eyes widening. Shell-shocked - quite literally, because he appeared as if a grenade had just exploded inside him - he stutters, " ** _W-what_** did you just say?!"

Needless to say, we spend the rest of the night listening to the pair debate heatedly over " _Why didn't you tell me?!_ " versus " _I did, you idiot! Those movies we watched were hints, and all you couldn't stop discussing was how ripped Ryan Reynolds was!_ ". And quite honestly, the only thing that I can conclude from this is that Ye-Rim and Jung-Kook should really pack up the composing gig and go to law school while they're still young.

Oh, and we never receive our free dessert, so we drop by the 7-11 the moment we arrive home to pick up two large tubs of Haagen-Dazs. 

And here we sit, in pure darkness with the hour hand inching close to 1 A.M., and Ho-Seok's sobbing pathetically next to me while spooning chocolate and strawberry-flavored cream into his mouth. "We've been spoiled, Wendy. This just doesn't taste as good."

"Please. I don't need another reminder of what I missed out on."

Oh, cheesecake. Fair, _luxurious_ cheesecake: You could've been ours. 

* * *

Fourth time around, and Ho-Seok and I both admit: the novelty of pranking restaurants for free food seems to be wearing off. It was enjoyable while it lasted, and we certainly relished in the added bonuses that came along with every single proposal (sans the third one, but we're just going to shelf that failure and never speak of it from this day forward). Then again, there's only so much free alcohol and desserts we can indulge in before our stomachs burst - and I'm sure that if we were doing this on a regular occurrence, we would eventually get arrested for fraud. 

So, it was unanimously decided: this was going to be the final time. Ho-Seok and I make our way towards the restaurant - the luxurious Jungsik, who was more than delighted to accommodate our sudden reservation - and as we climb the narrow stairway, he suddenly says, somber, "I swear, we're going to end this on a bang. And I'm going to get this right!"

"When you mean _bang_ ," I say cautiously. "You don't mean to say that you have plans to set fireworks in the sky and send a message that way to pop the question, do you?" God forbid it, because having my name sprawled out in brightly-lit sparkles across the entirety of Seoul's night sky wasn't the most pleasant imagery. 

"Oh, well, no...but wow, that would've been _brilliant_! What a great idea, Hwan. I'll be sure to do it for the real thing!"

"Hah?! No. Don't do it. _Please_. Just. _Don't_."

* * *

Thankfully, fireworks never made their appearance at the end of our (very expensive) eight-course meal. And with all things considered, it was an enjoyable affair for our last proposal. Ho-Seok always had a more refined and sophisticated palate when it came to picking restaurants, and it showed in the intricacy of the beautiful plating. Ho-Seok and I both had a very difficult time moving through each course since we took way too much time getting the right angles for our Instagram pictures. Questionable act? Maybe, but you don't just drop two hundred dollars per person for good food all the time! We had to make the memory last. 

But it wasn't the food, nor the head chef who had stopped by to tell us how much his children used to love us, that had left a lasting impression on me.

Rather, it was Ho-Seok's words.

Now granted, I _was_ prepared to sit through another five minutes of cringe-worthy dialogue that would make for a great anecdote to tell Seulgi and Soo-Young later, but from the moment his lips had parted and he had leaned forward to grip my hand, I could already tell that this wasn't going to sound remotely like anything from a drama. And nor was it going to be a noteworthy quote that he had saved for later from a book.

"Seung-Hwan- _ah_ -"

As I had anticipated, it was personable. Straight from his heart. I didn't dare tear my eyes away as he told me reason after reason as to why he loved me - and he even included embarrassing examples, like how I sang in the shower in the mornings and it didn't matter to him that it aroused him from his sleep because I sounded 'heavenly, anyway' and that he could never continue sleeping when a literal angel was living within his confines. I couldn't help but hold my breath when he confessed how much he loved, and will always continue to love me, 'even after fifty years, when our ankles are all twisted and back muscles are strained and our hands are riddled with arthritis'. There were some laughs in some of the metaphors that he used, yes, but perhaps what made me nearly left me crying was when he - his voice pledged with conviction and certitude - told me the hopes and desires for the immediate future that he wished to draw out _with_ me.

"I can picture us, moving somewhere that reminds you of home in Toronto so that you won't be so homesick all the time. We'll spend a few good years, working our gigs and traveling together, just the two of us to live out a semi-permanent honeymoon before settling down to have a family. And you know what else? I'd want to find a place, with space big enough for our kids to wreak havoc in. And it won't even matter whether we have a girl or a boy first because they'll have our genes, anyway. That already makes them superior enough as is." 

One thing that I know is, the talk of the future is _never_ pleasant. It's something that many of my exes never wanted to take part in because in all honesty, they just weren't ready to settle down, being so young, dumb and fickle. Not that there's anything wrong with exploring options, but with Ho-Seok, the idea of stability and security just seemed to come to him so naturally. It's like, he's had it planned out since we started dating. Now, while we've had brief discussions in the past, it was never to such a detailed extent. And it makes me wonder, is this really what he envisions? Is this truly the future that he would want? Would something so simple really give him satisfaction? And with someone like me?

That probing question is answered, however, when he pushes the box towards me and ends the speech.

"I'm a mess most of the time, I know, but you're the only one out of the few girls I've dated in the past who have lasted the longest. So, let me continually be the reasons as to why you smile and sigh. Let me write more songs for you to sing. And if you'll let me, I would love for the opportunity to listen to your voice for the rest of this lifetime. How about it?"

I'm way too caught up in the intimacy of the moment that I actually _forget_ to say yes, but soon enough, I remember to and nod with a slight tip of my head.

"O-of course." 

I know this probably sounds incredibly selfish, but I secretly hoped that Ho-Seok would propose to me again. I know, I know - we _said_ that this would be the last, and we would be kicking the bucket. But after listening to him say all of that, well -

I wouldn't mind hearing it again over and over, no matter how repetitive it ends up getting. 

* * *

It's about a week after we had ceased our pranks - a warm August evening - and I'm minding my own business with our daily load of clothes to be washed when Ho-Seok suddenly pokes his head into the laundry room with a winning smile and a suggestion.

" _Yah_! Let's go on a date!"

"What? Like - " I glance at the wall clock with squinted eyes. "Right now?"

" _Yes_ , right now!" He presses, reaching forward to yank the basket of damp-smelling clothes away from my grip.

"At _nine_ , Seok?"

"Ey, time of day doesn't matter! Let's go, _let's go_!"

Here's one important life lesson for you. If you ever have the opportunity to date Jung Ho-Seok (in the next life, of course; he's taken in this particular universe), whenever he tells you to do something - persistently so like a puppy, without letting up - just give in. Even my willpower crumbles the moment he pulls out that face with the cheesy, wide-smiled grin that he knows would leave my knees weak.

"Okay, but fair warning," I caution as we both grab our jackets and make our way out the door, arms interlocked in a nearly unbreakable chain. "I look ratty and am not worthy to be put on your Instagram, so don't even _think_ about it!" 

"You should know that we're not going anywhere spectacular at nine o'clock in the evening; I just want to do something today before the night ends!" He eyes me up and down when we step into the elevator, and dare I say it, they seem to sparkle a bit brighter than usual when they linger on my casual get-up, consisting of sweatpants and a crop tee. "Besides, you're always dazzling to the eye." 

"Flattery gets you nowhere." But I laugh alongside him, anyway, and our cheeriness reverberates in a soft echo throughout the elevator as it begins its descent. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"Oh," he sings, a wickedly impish smile spread wide on his face. "You'll see. It's a surprise! And it'll be fun!"

* * *

A surprise, it definitely wasn't. Fun, though, it definitely was. Because as it turns out, Ho-Seok was just taking me on a nostalgic trip down memory lane spanning across the entirety of Seoul. It was like we were reliving out the memories of our first date from so many years ago.

We stopped at food stalls in the late-night marketplaces to fill up on _odeng_ and _tteokbokki,_ where we were greeted by the same elderly woman who served us back then. Her hair's grayer now, her hands scooping up the rice cakes into plastic platters have become speckled with sunspots, and her eyesight seems to have deteriorated slightly over time. But there's no denying the sharpness of her memory when she saw us approach her cart, waving. Whilst ladling the food into our take-out containers, she announced cheerfully, "My, I'm so happy to see that you two are still in love and happy!"

And you know what I wanted to say in response?

" _So am I. I'm so lucky to be in love with him._ " 

I don't, though. Rather, I spent a good ten minutes talking about how clumsy Ho-Seok still is - and he proved this point very well when he drips the sauce all across the front of his shirt.

"See?" He complained as I dabbed a napkin at the trail of red. "This is why I need you to take care of me; I'm a total klutz!"

"Indeed, you are. What would you be without me?"

"A mess," Ho-Seok stated seriously. "A dumb, lost mess." 

From there, we spent a good half hour hiking up _Namsan_ to the peak, talking endlessly about everything and anything. Once we reached the top, though, Ho-Seok suddenly dragged me towards the chainlink fence, overcrowded with newly-added love locks, seemingly in search of something.

"Seok, what are you looking for?"

"Remember when we did a love lock?" Of course, I remember. He wrote ' _I HOPE I CAN BE WENDY'S FOREVER HOPE_ ' on it. "I just wanted to see if it's still here."

"Seok, not to be a Debbie Downer, but it's been five years since." I pointed out matter-of-factly, gesturing to the growing collection crisscrossing the metal with its alluring display of purples, reds, and pinks. "If natural wear and tear didn't break it down, I'm sure it got lost within the pile."

"Well, what a shame. Okay, _but_!" That's Ho-Seok for you - always a step ahead. "Hear me out! We can come back again in the future, and we'll write one again!" 

"Oh? And what are you going to pray for the next time?"

"That we'll be able to see each other's hair grow white and hold each others' hands until they're wrinkly and saggy," he said fondly. 

I won't lie: my heart _really_ felt like stopping when he said that. I'm just glad it was dark enough for a late August evening to hide my blush. 

Then, down we went, taking a near-empty bus that took us to our regular go-to: Gong Cha. I know, I know. We're both thirty-two and should be watching our sugar intake, but who can deny the deliciousness that is in their toppings? The best part is, I have a partner-in-crime who shares my passion for the bubble tea franchise and wholeheartedly indulges in my cravings without any questions asked. So, as per custom, I order a grapefruit green tea with pearls, thirty percent sweetness, and less ice while he gets a pudding milk tea, fifty percent sweetness. We end up taking our beverages to our regular table and it's halfway through sipping our drinks when Ho-Seok asked curiously, "Do you think taste buds can be inherited?"

"Well, my grade school biology textbooks never taught me anything of the sort. Why the sudden question?"

"I mean, getting Gong Cha on a weekly basis when it's just us is fine," he said. "I just don't want them to get passed on to our kids. Just imagine if they - " 

" ** _YAH_**! Hold on, hold on!" I screeched, almost in hysterics, earning myself a well-deserved glare from the barista behind the counter. "Why are we even talking about _hypothetical_ _kids_?!"

"Why not? Don't tell me you actually thought that I was joking from last time!" Ho-Seok demanded, pressing a finger against my temple in a patronizing manner. "It's in due time!" And then, he suddenly giggled, turning uncharacteristically bashful at his lame pun. "Due time. Get it? Because pregnant women are often asked when they're due - " 

"Yes, Seok. I get it," I sighed, my tone devoid of amusement as I throw my head against the tabletop. " _Very_ funny." I don't know what's worse: the fact that he asked this without shame or the fact that deep down - way, way, way deep down - I _wanted_ him to expand on the details.

Maybe a little bit of both.

Now, I don't know if it's just me being hypersensitive, but something seems - _off_ about our date today. Different than usual, with talks of our future being the central topic tonight and Ho-Seok dropping an unusually large number of hints that have left my heart racing. I can't quite wrap my head around it, but then again, maybe I'm just overthinking things as I usually do. So instead, I let Ho-Seok take full reign of the conversation, listening to him jabber on and on about Nam-Joon's new collaboration single with Ye-Rim that successfully distracts me from my train of thought and dampens my curiosity.

That is, until he clears his throat. And almost immediately, I'm put on red-alert.

"So, did you have fun? What did you think?"

Oh, was that all to it? I shouldn't have to put my guard up for such an innocent question. Relaxing slightly, I admit, "It feels like - our first date, I think." It's nearing eleven by now, and we're trotting along a deserted walkway, overlooking the phantasmal nightscape of fluorescent blue and white before us. He swings my arm childishly, back and forth, prompting me to continue. "It makes me feel like I'm that twenty-seven-year-old friend, falling in love with you _all_ over again and letting your charms blackmail me into a long-lasting relationship."

I half-expected him to reply with a witty, near-cocky statement. Perhaps something along the lines of, 'Who can resist the Walking Embodiment of _Hope_?' or 'I've told you this so many times already, and you _still_ don't believe that I'm Persephone's son?" You know, something ridiculous that would have left me palming my forehead at his perpetual silliness.

All he asks, though, is: "Hmm. Is that right?" Muted. Subdued. Totally out of character. 

And that's when I feel it. His hand, once tightly interlaced in between my fingers, suddenly slips out of my grip. A pang of worry suddenly shoots through my being, and I turn around, ready to question whether something was wrong.

"Hey. What's with you tonight? Are you okay?" 

His arms are crossed against his back as he nods silently, and for a moment, I wonder whether it's something that _I_ unintentionally did that had upset him. Maybe a remark that I had said that was meant to be cheery but he took it otherwise, or how I scolded him about the _tteokbokki_ incident. But then, he looks up, wearing an enchantingly warm smile. Broad and wide, reaching the corners of his eyes. And at last, after a prolonged period of silence, he finally murmurs, "So, going through all of those fake proposals made me realize something."

"And what would that be, Seok?" I question, crossing my arms against my chest. "That fancy proposals are super overrated?"

"Well, I wouldn't say _no_ to going all out for the actual ceremony," he replies cutely, but the lighthearted playfulness hovering between us quickly evaporates when he locks his gaze onto mine. It's so clear to anybody passing by that he sees me as a necessary presence in his life. I'm truly so fortunate. The way he's watching me - there's so much love emanating from his eyes. So much unadulterated bliss and happiness; I can't help but let my arms fall weakly to my sides. "Because you know what? The setting, the food, the decor - all that isn't necessary. Cheesy as it may sound, you're right. Simple _is_ best. Proposals don't need extravagance. It should just be kept private, between the two most important people."

The weak inkling of doubt and weariness that I had been nursing since the moment we stepped out of the apartment is suddenly replaced by a flurry of butterflies, flittering away nervously throughout my tummy. 

"Seung-Hwan- _ah_ , I know that I have a tendency to keep things casual and fun. That I may never take things seriously." He brings his hands forward, clamping them together into a tight, balled fist. "But doing all of these stunts with you made me realize, I'm more than certain that I want to experience the aftermath of a proposal with you. I want to do everything that I had promised you in our fourth fake-proposal. _Together_."

I hold my breath, knowing full well what his next words were going to be.

"I would like you to marry me." 

There's a secret that I've kept to myself for a long while now. Ever since our debuts, we had always seen each other as supportive friends and colleagues who worked in the same industry and vied towards similar dreams and aspirations to spread joy and happiness through music. We were friends, and nothing more. 

Of course, that's just me being incredibly naive. Because the thing is, it was also through our friendship where I slowly, but surely saw how well he understood me in ways that my members couldn't. It wasn't just in the way of likes and dislikes, or favourite Gong Cha flavours or hobbies. They encompassed deeper, intimate topics. Things that I never dared to divulge. Things that I've always kept to myself, because it just didn't seem fair to unload my troubles onto innocent people.

But Ho-Seok - Ho-Seok let me do all that, because it was always his part of his schtick to go above and beyond for others.

Like that time when he knew I was moping over a high note that, try as I might, I just couldn't reach. He responded with a paragraph-long text, full of reassurance and encouragement, telling me to keep pushing. Even though he was a full ocean and several time zones away, he put me as a priority above rest and relaxation. And those instances where the late-night demons would plague my mind over uncertainties of the future post-Red Velvet? He would never hesitate to pick up the phone to let me vent my tearful frustrations away.

Most importantly, though, he was the one who taught me how to love myself. Despite my forthright, jovial on-screen identity, there's only so much that I can handle before my insecurities slip into the open for the world to scrutinize and nitpick. But Ho-Seok taught me that it's _okay_ to have a laugh that sounds like a pigs' snort; that it's _okay_ to eat cake - and to wholeheartedly enjoy it, rather than experience guilt; that simply being myself is _more_ than enough. And in places where I constantly struggled to embrace my flaws, he would be there to pick up after the pieces and put me back together when I fell apart at the seams, supporting me with words like, 'that's what makes you _you_ , and that's what I like about you.' 

Little did he know back then, there was much I liked about him, too.

And ever since that midsummer evening some years ago where Ho-Seok had shyly confessed that he saw me more than just his friend, I think there's always been a part of me - perhaps subconscious, or not - that was aware that he would end up becoming the one. Now, he's not perfect, make no mistake about that. There's plenty that's strange and unorthodox about him, like his trademark taglines of "I'm your hope, I'm your angel!" that he still uses on a regular basis whenever I'm upset to sneak out of trouble, and his rambunctious, happy-go-lucky personality isn't always everybody's cup of tea.

But certainly, _certainly_ , there's also plenty that's so right about him that I love and cherish all the same. And now, more than ever, I'm certain that it makes me want to live out the rest of my life with him: just us two, maybe with a dog and two kids somewhere in our interwoven timeline. Just being a perfectly imperfect pair.

So, here he is, standing a few steps away from me underneath a street lamp, waiting for my answer. Nothing elaborate. No kneeling. No roses. No candlelight dinners or tuxedos. It's just him, in worn denim, a white t-shirt speckled in red, looking at me as if I were his entire universe. Like I had always envisioned in my mind from the moment that Ho-Seok told me he loved me for the very first time.

I never knew that something so simple and ordinary could leave my eyes stinging with happy tears, but I guess tonight's an exception. I cup my mouth with both hands, murmuring quietly, "For real this time?" 

Ho-Seok nods in affirmation, pulling out the recognizable velvet box that he rotates, this way and that, before tossing it to me. As expected, he prepared another ring for the actual occasion, but he really was taking notes through it all, ensuring that it met all of my prerequisites. And while the simplicity of the jewel is everything I had imagined and more, I'm too focused on the man standing before me, wearing a loving, perfect smile that I know will always be reserved for me. 

"For real."

* * *

A few mornings after I say yes, and our phones have _finally_ died down from the constant bombardment of congratulatory notifications, Ho-Seok's back at it with his antics once more.

"C'mon."

He's nudging my foot with his own, a pleading pout set on his disgustingly cute face. I don't even have to ask; I'm already aware of what's going on in that brilliant head of his.

And my answer involves a single syllable, and a hard, curt shake of the head.

"No."

" _Please_! Just, one more time!" He's pulling out the worst tactic equipped within his arsenal: the puppy-dog look, with droopy eyebrows and curved lips to match. Already, I can sense my heart clenching. Oh, Ho-Seok: if only you knew all the things that you were capable of doing to me with those adorably pitiful eyes. Still, I try to remain firm with my stance, hitting the rolled-up magazine at his nose gently. 

"Look, even if you _are_ my fiancé!" My words falter as I take it in. My ' _boyfriend_ ' has officially become my ' _fiancé_ '. It still hasn't quite sunk in yet, but the more I hear it, the more I read it amongst my text messages, even I have to concede that it has a nice ring to it. Jung Ho-Seok, my fiancé. And sooner or later (perhaps, within a year or two), I'll be Mrs. Wendy Jung. It's crazy. Unbelievably crazy.

But it's a good kind of crazy.

"Hell ** _oooo_**? Earth to Wendy?" Waving his hand wildly in front of my face, he asks, "Are you still there?" 

"What I-I meant to say was," I stammer, swatting it away. "You shouldn't do this! We've already tricked four different restaurants; any more shenanigans, and I'm sure that they'll be issuing an arrest warrant for us!"

To which, Ho-Seok snorts, treating my words as if they were the silliest thing he had ever heard. He has no qualms of breaking the law, it seems. "Who says that we're physically going, though?"

Now that, truth be told, had my curiosity piqued - but before I could ask anything else, Ho-Seok's fingers are already busily dialing in an unrecognizable number on his mobile. It doesn't take long for the receiver to pick up. 

Amidst the piercing backdrop of static and clamour, a smooth, velveteen voice greets us through the speakerphone. “Jin’s Kitchen, how may I help you?”

Ah. No wonder.

Ho-Seok - sweet, scheming Ho-Seok, who would equip any means necessary to get a free meal from his beloved _hyung_ 's Japanese-style restaurant - deepens his voice to that of a middle-aged _ahjusshi_ , replying, “Hi there. I’m thinking of proposing at your restaurant – “

“Ah." A pause. "Well, my sincerest apologies, _sir_." Is that sarcasm I detect in the salutation? "But my supervisor would like to have a word with you. One moment, please.”

Not a second too early or too late, Kim Seokjin arrives. Deadpan and gruff, he gives my expectant fiancé a straightforward answer that nearly has me collapsing over the couch, dying from laughter.

“No, sir. Please do not test my patience.”

“I. Am. **_HURT_** ," Ho-Seok wails, flailing his upper body over my lap. "Is - is this how you treat your best customers?”

“Best customer, my ass! I KNOW IT’S YOU, HO-SEOK." Nothing ever leaves Seokjin's ears undetected, huh? But I guess that's what comes with being roommates for ten years. "AND AS MY _DONGSAENG_ , YOU’RE **_SUPPOSED_** TO SUPPORT MY BUSINESS VENTURES WHOLEHEARTEDLY.” He pauses for a moment before hollering, “AND WHY IS WENDY ALLOWING YOU TO DO THIS?!"

"I uh, I told him no," I interject. Which is true, by the way. I did. "Trust me, I _tried,_ but there's no stopping Ho-Seokkie when he has his mind set, right?"

Seokjin's breathing heavily on the other side of the receiver, doing his best to remain as calm as possible. “Well. Congratulations on your engagement." So stiff. So very stiff and stilted. I would do anything to see what his facial expression is like right now. "But _please_ tell your fiancé that he’s being absolutely ridiculous and I can't keep my business afloat from the ex-Bangtan-member name alone.”

"I mean, your food is delicious, _oppa_. People should be frolicking over! I'll tell him to stop because you're right, it's a heinous action to exploit the industry this way. But _surely_ , you can offer us a small incentive too?"

"...Wen-"

"A small discount, maybe? For old times' sake?"

"...20%," Seokjin grumbles begrudgingly. "It's on the house."

"Because I'm your favourite _dongsaeng_!"

" _ **BECAUSE**_ Seung-Hwannie's kind and I trust her more than I trust _you_!" Seokjin scolds. "Now, good-bye!"

The phone clicks dead, and Ho-Seok bumps his fist against mine with a victoriously smug smirk gracing his handsome face.

"Got him."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the prompt: Imagine your OTP pulling off fake proposals to get free food. :3 (And yes, it's still within the idolverse, but as retired members so let's just assume they don't get recognized as much X'D)
> 
> I feel like, in times like these, we really need some fluff and laughter to make our lives a bit more bearable and positive, so I won’t say much more. I just hope that this little piece managed to put a smile on your face :) As always, take care, be safe and I'll see you next time! <3
> 
> (P.S. Wendy sang [Hear the Sea](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6PkJxPbnjI) :3 I have such a soft spot for this song, and a big thank you goes to my friend for reminding me of this masterpiece!)


End file.
